For Alison and Jefferson Crowther, learning what Welles had done brought pride into the same space as grief.

The two emotions did not cancel each other.

Their son had helped save lives. Their son was still gone.

Public attention grew as survivors’ accounts were connected to Welles. The story moved through newspapers, television reports, schools, books, sports programs, and memorial events. Each retelling risked simplifying him into a symbol.

His family worked to keep the person visible inside the symbol.

Welles was not born on the 78th floor. He had been a son, brother, teammate, student, friend, volunteer firefighter, and young professional. His choice on September 11 drew on those relationships and experiences.

The family also had to navigate numbers.

Some accounts say he saved at least ten people. Boston College and other sources have used estimates as high as 18. Because the rescue was reconstructed from overlapping survivor testimony, an exact count is difficult to establish.

The careful version does not need the largest number.

At least ten people survived after being helped by Welles. Every one of them was more than a statistic. Every life continued into families, work, memory, and years Welles would not see.

His identity also transformed the bandana.

Before 9/11, it had been personal. Afterward, it became public shorthand for courage and service. People began wearing red bandanas in his honor. Athletes carried the pattern onto fields and uniforms. Students learned the story through lessons about character.

Boston College created traditions around Welles’s memory. The annual Red Bandanna Run brought participants together to support the charitable trust established in his name. The school recognized service that reflected the values associated with his life.

In 2006, Welles was posthumously named an honorary New York City firefighter. The recognition connected his volunteer service and his actions inside the South Tower to the profession he had considered joining.

The honor was meaningful, but it came after the most important witnesses had already described what he did.

No title made him the man in the red bandana.

The survivors did.

The family continued meeting people who had been moved by the story. Alison spoke to students and communities. She explained that Welles had received his first red bandana from his father. She asked younger generations to consider what courage and service could look like in their own lives.

Years after the attacks, young lacrosse players from Nyack visited the 9/11 Memorial with her. They wore Welles’s number and carried red bandanas. For them, he belonged not only to national history but also to the streets, schools, and playing fields of their hometown.

The symbol had traveled far from the small family gesture that began it.

Still, a symbol can become abstract.

The Museum needed an object.

The Crowther family had one.